


Marked for Death

by oxygenforthewicked



Series: Prompts and AUs [1]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Fluff, So much angst, Soulmates, Tumblr Prompt, soulmates - date of death on wrist
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-10
Updated: 2021-01-10
Packaged: 2021-03-14 09:34:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 11,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28668570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oxygenforthewicked/pseuds/oxygenforthewicked
Summary: 9:42:10:7The mark on Lana Lavellan's wrist translated to the seventh of Harvestmere, 9:42 Dragon. The day her soulmate would die. It was five years away, and she hadn't even met them yet. It felt like a joke, a curse from Fen'Harel himself.And so she decided that she would never fall in love.***Most characters and situations belong to Bioware. No copyright infringement intended.
Relationships: Female Lavellan/Solas, Lavellan & Solas, Lavellan/Solas (Dragon Age)
Series: Prompts and AUs [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2178135
Comments: 6
Kudos: 36





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is based on a soulmate AU prompt request: date of soulmate's death is written on their wrist

_9:42:10:7_

It translated to the seventh of Harvestmere, 9:42 Dragon. The day her soulmate would die. 

The Creators had a sick sense of humor that Lana Lavellan never really understood – the curse of knowing such a wretched thing. But whether it was the Creators, the Forgotten Ones, or Fen’Harel himself that had ‘gifted’ them with the curse, no one really knew. The _vallas’din_ , or death mark _,_ would appear as soon as a person came of age – or, at least, that’s what most people said. Lana’s Keeper, Deshanna, always said that the _vallas’din_ would appear when a person truly knew who they were and what they stood for. 

The _vallas’din_ appeared on her wrist in 9:37 Dragon, when she was twenty years old. Her clan usually treated it as a sign for celebration when the _vallas’din_ appeared – perhaps to lighten the morbidity of it. They were taught that death was a natural part of life and that the curse was a reminder to cherish the time one had with their soulmate. 

But Lana did not see it as a celebration. She did not love anyone in her clan, much less think of any of them as her soulmate. Most people she knew would have thirty or fifty years until their soulmates died. But _five?_ Five years, and she didn’t even know where to start looking for them. Pain had gripped her chest for a loss that hadn’t even come to pass when she read it for the first time. She showed her wrist to Deshanna first, and she remembered the way her Keeper had looked up at her, her eyes sorrowful. Despite all her teachings, Lana felt cheated, betrayed. Bitter.

That day, Lana decided that she would never fall in love. 

***

Lana threw herself into her studies, learning everything there was to know about the old magic – magic that had been nearly lost to time. She excelled at healing magic, becoming her clan’s primary healer. But she remained reclusive, studying what little history the clan had collected over the years. She traveled alone, searching through old elven ruins and bringing back artifacts that she could study. 

Deshanna disliked it when she left by herself, she knew, but this had become her life’s pursuit. Reclaiming what had been lost was more important to Lana than most everything else. 

That was until the Mage-Templar war began. Deshanna forbade her from traveling away from the clan anymore, for fear of rogue templars capturing her. Lana disliked being cooped up at the camp, and would often sneak out at night, despite her Keeper. She would never wander far, but the stillness of night brought her much-needed comfort. 

She would stare up at the night sky, listening to the water lap against the stones of the riverbank like a soft song. Some nights she would accidentally fall asleep there, her dreams filled with visions of a wolf. Its blue eyes would watch her curiously before disappearing into nothing. Most would have deemed her dreams a bad omen, but when she awoke, she always felt so… light. Like the darkness of the world didn’t quite matter. 

One day, Deshanna came to her aravel as she was preparing healing potions for the hunting party that would be leaving the following morning. 

“Da’len,” Deshanna said. “There are to be peace talks amongst the shemlen in three weeks. Though I don’t like the idea, we need to have someone from the clan attend the meeting. What is decided there will affect us all.” 

“I see,” Lana replied. “And I assume you have decided to send me?” 

“Yes,” Deshanna said. “I would go myself, but I am needed here.”

“Am I not needed?” Lana asked, setting down the pestle she’d been using to crush herbs.

“Yes, but if you are to be the Keeper one day, you must learn how to lead and defend our people. You will go to find out what their plans are, and return to help lead us in our next course of action.” 

Lana fidgeted with the wrappings around her left hand. “You would leave it to me to decide something like that?” 

“You will have me and the other _ha’hrens_ to guide you, but yes.” Deshanna smiled. “I have faith that you will do well, da’len. You are, after all, the most adventurous of all of us.” 

Lana huffed a laugh. “Very well. I will do as you ask.” 

“Thank you da’len. I will have you leave with the hunting party in the morning – they will be holding the talks at one of their temples in Ferelden, near a town called Haven. The hunters can take you as far as Cumberland, where you will need to take ship and sail to Jader. From there you will be on your own, but I have every bit of confidence that you will be able to protect yourself.” 

“Understood, Keeper.” 

***

It was meant to be a simple mission. Go to the talks, hear what the shemlen would decide, and return to her clan. Nothing more, nothing less. 

Then came a blinding light, otherworldly screeching, a voice calling out to her in the darkness. There were small glimpses of something in her dreams. Blue eyes of a white wolf faded into a pair of cold, gray-blue eyes before the darkness took her once more.

Pain. The pain was what she remembered the most.

It should have all been so simple.

Lana groaned as she opened her eyes and lifted herself from the cold stone and assessed her surroundings. She was shackled. Guards surrounded her, their eyes watching her warily. The dank, dark room was lit only by the sconces on each of the four pillars around her.

And then the pain returned. There was a flash of green, and she looked down at her left hand. It was some kind of mark of magic, she supposed. Was that what these shemlen were afraid of?

Why… _why can’t I remember anything?_

The door in front of her was practically kicked in by a woman with short dark hair and dark eyes with fire behind them. She was followed by a redheaded who seemed to be assessing her – likely for strengths, weaknesses, and any sign of guilt for whatever crime she had committed.

“Tell me why we shouldn’t kill you now,” the dark-haired woman said. “The Conclave is destroyed. Everyone who attended is dead – except for _you._ ”

“I didn’t _do_ anything,” Lana replied coolly. “If anything, I know less than you.”

“Then explain this,” the woman said, grabbing her hand.

The pain seared through her skin and she cried out. The redheaded woman pulled the dark-haired woman away. “We need her, Cassandra.”

Cassandra’s lip curled as she looked down at Lana. “Fine,” she said. “You question her, Leliana.”

“Do you remember what happened?” Leliana asked. “How this began?”

“No,” Lana replied. “Not… really, anyway. I remember running, and there was a woman – it’s just flashes. Everything else is blank.”

Leliana looked at Cassandra.

“Go to the forward camp,” Cassandra said. “We will meet you there.”

Leliana looked from Cassandra to Lana. “Be careful,” she told Cassandra, her voice lowered, “and please, refrain from making any rash decisions. We don’t know anything yet.”

Cassandra said nothing as Leliana left. She unshackled Lana and led her outside, an eerie green light nearly blinding her. She winced at the light. Some kind of green vortex swirled over the mountain in the distance.

The shemlen viewed her as a criminal, a murderer. All the people at the temple had died in a blast that breached the Veil, the Fade emptying itself into the mortal realm. 

Cassandra Pentaghast, the “Right Hand” of the former Divine, brought her through the valley, fighting alongside her as demons attacked them from every turn. It was a nightmare she couldn’t seem to wake up from. 

Lana’s mind was numb as they quickly made their way back to the temple. They came across an elven apostate and a dwarf, who joined them to help them fight their way up the mountain. The elven apostate, Solas, had brought her mark forward and helped her channel its magic to close a small rift that had formed. 

“Whatever magic opened the Breach in the sky also placed that mark upon your hand. I theorized the mark might be able to close the rifts that have opened in the Breach’s wake – and it seems I was correct.” 

Lana assessed the magic. It was like a bit of the Fade had been opened in her palm. She grimaced as she realized that her usual hand wrapping had been removed – likely for this apostate to keep the mark from killing her while she slept, as the dwarf had mentioned – but it left the cursed _vallas’din_ bare. 

The apostate went on to talk about her mark closing the Breach itself with Cassandra. Lana looked up at the Breach. 

“The mark isn’t powerful enough to close the Breach,” she said. “It may be powerful enough to close a smaller rift, but even now the magic feels almost… weak.” 

“We have no choice,” Cassandra said. “We must try.”

Lana nodded and followed them through the valley and up the mountain to the temple. The Breach made her feel sick the closer they got to it and her mind spun as they made it to the center of the ruined temple. Voices from the Fade echoed what transpired before – before her memories were lost. She had no recollection of entering the chamber or what she had seen. 

But that was a problem for a later date. The Breach was the immediate threat. 

She attempted to close the Breach, channeling as much of her own magic as she could, but as she predicted, it was still not strong enough. She felt part of the Breach close – or at least lessen in strength – before her legs gave out and everything went black. 

***

The Breach had stopped growing, but hadn’t been closed completely. Much to her surprise and chagrin, the shemlen had proclaimed her some kind of prophet to their god. Or their god’s wife? She wasn’t quite sure which one it was, or if it was both.

Cassandra, for all the anger she had displayed the day they met, seemed to lower her guard a fair amount. She offered for Lana to join them – their Inquisition, as they called it – and help them close the Breach. Despite her desire to run as far away as possible, she couldn’t leave them all defenseless when she alone had the power to close it. Not to mention that many people wanted her dead. 

And so the small town of Haven was to become her home.

Creators help her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: Some of the dialogue from in-game quests are written verbatim in this fic - mostly because paraphrasing didn't feel right for the characters and the actual dialogue fit better for the story. I tried to keep it as minimal/varied as possible, though ❤
> 
> Also fun fact - I wrote this in two days because I got the idea and ran with it, so if you have any comments/critiques, I welcome them!


	2. Chapter 2

Lana trudged through the front gates of Haven, her legs sore after traveling for nearly a week from Orlais. They had gone to meet with the shemlen clerics in Val Royeaux, and it went about as well as they expected. The clerics and the templars they had met had been hostile, denouncing the Inquisition and Lana herself.

By a stroke of luck, they had managed to return an offer of an alliance with the rebel mages, and two more allies willing to aid their cause. The first to join them was Madame Vivienne, the First Enchanter of the Montsimmard Circle and Enchanter to the Imperial Court in Orlais. She was one of the most collected and confident women Lana had ever met – and was equal parts inspiring and frightening. The second to join had been Sera, an elf from Denerim, who was a part of a group called the Red Jennies. She didn’t seem to like “elfy” elves like the Dalish, but seemed to tolerate Lana well enough.

But after dealing with all the politics and travelling, Lana wanted nothing more than a hot meal and a nap. Lana’s desire to shut everyone out and hide away until they needed her was quickly snuffed out by the fact that hunting in her current condition was not the best idea. It was bad enough that she had amateur hunting skills at best, but the mark being as unpredictable as it was made it difficult to move silently through the forest.

So that was how she found herself walking into Haven’s tavern. Which, she realized as she took in the faces of everyone in the tavern, was probably a huge mistake.

“Emerald! There you are,” the dwarf named Varric said in her direction. She looked behind her, assuming he was speaking to someone else. She looked back at him and he motioned for her to join him. Swallowing, she crossed the tavern and sat in the chair across the table from him. “You look like you could use a drink, kid, especially after all of the shit that went down in Val Royeaux.”

“I don’t drink, actually,” she said.

He shrugged. “Suit yourself. Bet you’re hungry though. Don’t worry, this place has decent food.” He waved at a woman in an apron.

She smiled and walked over to the table. “What’ll you have, then?” she asked before she looked down at Lana. “Oh! Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize it was you, Lady Herald.”

Lana raised her hands in front of her. “It’s okay, you don’t have to call me that. I’m not…” She caught Varric slightly shake his head as if saying _just let her call you that._ She pressed her lips together. “You can just call me Lana.”

“Of course, L-lana. What’ll you have?”

“Anything, at this point,” Lana said.

Varric chuckled. “She’ll take the stew, Flissa.”

Flissa nodded and scurried away. Lana leaned her elbows on the table and held her face in one hand.

“You’ll get used to it, kid.”

“I’m no prophet of anything,” Lana said. “I don’t even believe in this Andraste person.”

“Maybe not, but they do,” Varric said. “And belief can be more powerful than fear.”

“Even if it’s a lie?”

He shrugged. “How do you know it’s a lie? It could be the truth – and that alone can sometimes be enough.”

Flissa came by again and set a bowl of stew down in front of her. Lana thanked her and immediately began to eat, not realizing how hungry she’d been.

Varric chuckled. “So, Emerald – tell me about yourself.”

Lana looked up at him, her mouth full of food. She swallowed, realizing that she’d eaten nearly half of the stew in one sitting. “Why do you want to know?” she asked.

Varric shrugged. “A Dalish girl ending up in the ass-end of demon town, her clan nowhere in sight… call me curious.”

She set her spoon down. “There’s not much to tell,” she said.

“Oh, I’m sure you have a story or two,” Varric said.

Lana was contemplating what to say when someone walked up to the table.

“This seat taken?”

Lana looked up to see Sera, who sat down in the empty seat next to them.

“No, by all means,” Varric said. “Emerald here was just about to tell a story.”

“Yeah?” Sera said, looking at Lana. “Is it an elfy one? ‘Cause if it’s elfy, I’m leaving. I get enough of that from Solas.”

Solas – the apostate who had helped keep the mark from killing her. She had heard Sera and him bicker on the way back from Orlais, though she supposed she had been too tired to really notice what they had been talking about.

Lana went to fidget with her wrist wrap, and realized all at once that she hadn’t put it back on after she’d bathed. She pulled her sleeve up, but it didn’t quite cover the _vallas’din._

“Is your hand doing better?” Varric asked, nodding to her wrist. “You finally took the bandage off. Was it sprained from the mark or something?”

“It’s fine,” she said.

He gave her a sympathetic smile. “Trying to forget about someone, huh? I like to keep mine covered, too.”

“Me too,” Sera said, showing off the red band around her wrist. “It’s messed up, is what it is. Who’d want to know something like that?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Lana replied. “I don’t have anyone, anyway.”

“S’all good, probably better that way,” Sera said.

“Actually, I’m kind of tired,” Lana said. “I think I’m going to call it a night.”

“Oh, boo,” Sera said. “Don’t be boring. You haven’t even finished your food yet.”

Lana made a face.

“It’s fine, Buttercup, she’s had a rough month,” Varric said before looking back at Lana. “Go get some rest, I have a feeling you’re going to need it.”


	3. Chapter 3

When she wasn’t busy in the war room with her advisors discussing their next moves for closing the Breach, Lana found herself in the healer’s cabin, helping Adan with potions and curing the severely wounded. But she found that the more she used her healing magic, the more frequently the mark on her hand would feel like it was burning in her skin. 

One evening as she left Adan’s cabin after helping heal a particularly nasty wound on a scout who had been attacked by wolves, white-hot pain shot through her palm. She covered her mouth and closed her eyes as she tried to breathe through the pain, tears pooling behind her eyelids.

Her eyes flew open as smooth fingers gently took her hand. Solas peered down at her palm. 

“How long has it been flaring up like this?” he asked. 

“It’s fine,” she said, pulling her hand away. “It just startled me, that’s all.” 

His eyes searched her face, clearly seeing the lie for what it was. 

“Be that as it may,” he said. “I believe that I can help the flares from occurring. Come with me.” 

“No, really, it’s fine,” she said.

His brows furrowed. “If the mark is not frequently maintained, it could result in the magic further spreading and eventually kill you.” 

She shifted uncomfortably. “Fine, but – please don’t tell anyone. I don’t want them to think…” she paused, pressing her lips together. 

“I understand. You can count on my discretion.”

She nodded and followed him to his cabin, where a fire was already roaring in the fireplace. She welcomed the warmth. 

“Please, sit,” he said, motioning to the chair beside his desk. 

She sat down and he kneeled in front of her as he took her hand in his once more. He assessed her palm, the mark half-covered by the cloth of her hand wraps.

“I will need to remove this,” he said. 

She nodded reluctantly. 

As he unwrapped the cloth, the mark was fully bare, along with the _vallas’din_. It seemed to give him pause before his eyes shifted to the mark. Spirit magic sprung from his fingers to cast a spell she’d never seen before. The cool magic covered her palm, the pain subsiding quickly. She sighed in relief. He didn’t stop until the magic from the mark dulled into a sliver of green – much smaller than it had been in weeks. 

“You must be careful,” he said, his voice gentle as he looked up at her. “I would advise that we assess the mark’s condition regularly. From what I have heard, there are a great number of small rifts that have erupted in the area – and closing them may cause the mark to flare again.” 

He slowly pulled away and stood, turning away from her. 

“What kind of magic was that?” she asked as she stood as well. 

“It was just a little spirit magic I developed over the years,” he replied as he looked back at her. 

“Can you teach me?” she asked. “So that… so that I can learn to maintain the mark myself?” 

There was a flicker of something behind his eyes before he inclined his head. “Of course,” he replied. “It may take a while to learn, but I will teach you what I can.”


	4. Chapter 4

“You will need to concentrate on pulling more from the Fade than you normally would,” Solas explained as they sat on the floor of her cabin. “This kind of spirit magic requires more mana to cast. Most would resort to taking lyrium instead of pulling from the Fade itself, but with practice, it is achievable.”

“So you want me to just cast a barrier spell?” she asked.

“Yes and no. In drawing most of its strength from the Fade, it maintains a more stable pattern and lasts far longer than a normal barrier spell.”

She bit her lip. “I’ve read about that technique, but I’ve never actually tried it,” she said.

“It is not quite as complicated as it seems in theory,” Solas said.

She nodded and took a deep breath and held out her hands. Finding that small part of her that felt the most connected to the Fade, she imagined it like a small thread. She tugged on the thread slightly, and she could feel more energy flow through her.

It was overflowing.

In her panic, she channeled it quickly into the spell. It came out as a blast of light and quickly fizzled out.

Solas chuckled. “That is a start, at least.”

She grimaced. “Sorry.”

“Do not apologize,” he said gently. “Do you want to try again?”

She nodded and held her hands out again, feeling for the thread.

“Here,” Solas said, cupping his hands underneath hers. “I can help you channel the spell.”

Lana blushed slightly at the touch, but closed her eyes and tried to concentrate on the thread instead. She pulled on it again and felt the magic begin to overflow once more. This time, however, she felt his magic alongside hers, as though he were guiding the spell. She opened her eyes as she cast the spell once more – but this time it brushed along her skin in a wave of green energy.

She smiled at the glimmer of magic.

“That feels much stronger,” she noted. “A little erratic still, but strong.”

“It will stabilize with practice,” he said with a smile, light dancing in his eyes.

The spell dimmed, and he pulled his hands away.

“Should we try again?” she asked.

“We should be careful,” he said. “I would not want you to overextend yourself, given that this magic alone has already begun to interact with your mark.”

She looked down, noting that the low glow of her mark was getting brighter. “Right,” she sighed.

“But you are a quick learner,” Solas said, taking her hand to calm her mark once more. “In time, you should be able to manage it on your own.”

“Thank you,” she said.

“You need not thank me,” he said quietly.

“But I do,” she said as he pulled away once more. “I’m sorry I didn’t thank you before – for keeping me alive, I mean.”

“It was a difficult day,” he said with a smirk.

She laughed lightly. “That’s putting it mildly.”

Their eyes met, and she felt her heart quicken as his gaze held hers.

“Anyway,” she said abruptly, standing up, “I should… we should probably…”

“Of course,” he said, picking himself up as well. “I have kept you long enough for one evening. Shall we meet again tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow,” she said with a nod.

As he left and closed the door behind him, she let out a sigh. It was probably nothing, she decided. Nothing to be worried about. She felt a kinship with him, but it wasn’t more than that. They were very similar after all – keeping to themselves, focusing more on the task at hand than anything else. Being around other people could be exhausting.

Yet, she didn’t feel quite so exhausted around him. Perhaps it was the way he didn’t poke or prod her for answers to personal questions, or the fact that he seemed to care as much for learning as she did.

She bit her lip. There was nothing wrong with having a friend, she supposed.


	5. Chapter 5

The Storm Coast was, by far, the wettest place that Lana had ever been. Her footwraps were constantly soaked, and the thick clothes that had done so well to keep her warm in Haven were heavy and suffocating. She wasn’t sure she was ever going to be dry again. They had travelled there to meet with The Iron Bull, the mercenary captain of The Chargers, to discuss the possibility of hiring them on to aid the Inquisition.

The Iron Bull and his mercenaries were promising enough that Lana accepted their offer quickly, though she was secretly just eager to leave as quickly as possible.

They had made it far enough from the wet and the rain when night fell that they could make camp. She ended up huddled as close to the campfire as possible, until the heat was practically scorching her face. 

Varric laughed. “You know, Emerald, if you get any closer to that fire you may as well just be sitting in it.” 

Lana made a face at him as she pulled her wool blanket tighter around her. 

“Is that really your nickname for her?” Cassandra asked. “Aren’t nicknames meant to be shorter than a person’s full name?” 

Varric shrugged. “Sure, but why limit yourself? Plus, just look at her. Green eyes, green mark, hell, even her tattoos are green. It suits her just fine.” 

“I’m right here, you know,” Lana said. 

“You won’t be in a minute if you burn yourself to a crisp," the dwarf smirked. 

Lana felt something heavy drape over her. She looked up to see Solas give her a soft smile as he stood. “Take mine – I have a spare in my tent.”

The corners of her lips tugged upward as she watched him walk to his tent and disappear inside. She eased away from the fire, pulling both blankets around her. 

“So, you and Chuckles, huh?” Varric smirked. “I can’t say I’m surprised, though. You two have been thick as thieves for the past few weeks.” 

She looked up at him, her face hard. “It’s not like that,” she snapped.

He blinked at her. “Sorry, didn’t mean to offend.” 

Lana felt Iron Bull watching her carefully – as though he could see right through her. She swallowed and stood up, retreating to her own tent. 

It wasn’t like that. It wasn’t. It couldn’t be. There was just over a year left until the date of her soulmate’s death passed. All she had to do was make it until then. After that – she supposed she was free to do what she wanted. It wouldn’t matter anymore. 

***

The next night, she found herself in the tavern with Varric again, this time joined by Iron Bull. She was beginning to think that Varric just happened to always be in the tavern – she ran into him enough there that it was entirely plausible. That, or he was working with Leliana and her spy network to keep a close eye on her. But perhaps she was just being paranoid.

“Listen, Tiny, all I’m saying is that if you want to expand this mercenary business of yours, hiring on a few more people to do odd jobs around here might not be your worst option.”

Bull shook his head. “I’ve got all the men I need,” he said. “Any more and they might start to think they can mutiny.”

“Oh, I doubt that,” Varric said. “I can’t think of a single person who wouldn’t take one look at you and want to run the other way.”

“You’d be surprised,” Bull chuckled.

Varric turned to Lana. “Would you face this guy in single combat?”

She looked at Bull. “That depends,” she replied. “Am I allowed to use magic?”

Bull shrugged. “I wouldn’t expect you not to, but I should say that doesn’t necessarily put you at an advantage. I’ve fought plenty of mages before.”

“But were they _Dalish_ mages?” she asked.

“One was, yeah,” he smirked. “Wasn’t too different from fighting any other mage.”

“Well, I think I could take you,” she said with a smile. “Not for your mercenary company, though.”

Bull laughed. “Fighting just to get the blood pumping then? I think you and I are going to get along just fine.”

If there was anyone else she didn’t mind, it was Bull. Like Solas, he seemed to know when not to pry about certain things, or let things get too personal. Though she supposed from Bull’s perspective it could just be a Ben-Hassrath tactic.

The door to the tavern opened, and she looked to see Solas step through the door. Their eyes met, his gray-blue eyes piercing through her. She felt entirely stripped bare. Her cheeks began to blush fiercely as he crossed the room to their table. 

“Would you mind if I joined you?” Solas said, looking down at them.

Varric smiled. “Chuckles! I never see you in here. Sure, take a seat.”

Solas sat in between Varric and Lana, setting down a thick tome on the table.

“So, how come I never see you in here?” Varric asked Solas.

“I don’t often come in here,” Solas replied.

“Then I suppose we should mark the occasion,” Varric said. “Drinks? I’m buying.”

“I was not intending on staying too long, I’m afraid,” Solas said. “I only came to meet Lana for our lesson.”

“Is that what they’re calling it these days?” Bull said with a smile. 

Solas gave Bull a look.

“Um,” Lana said suddenly, “Actually, Solas, I’ll have to meet with you another time. Lady Josephine wanted me for… something.”

She stood up quickly, all three of them watching her with a mix of curiosity and surprise. Without another word, she left out the tavern door, stepping into the snowstorm that she hadn’t realized was raging around Haven. It had been a lie, but she needed to collect herself. She wrapped her arms tightly around her and started down the path toward the main gates.

When she finally reached her cabin, she rubbed her forehead. How the man had completely disarmed her with a glance she hadn’t a clue. He wasn’t threatening in the slightest, but something about him terrified her.

She stripped off her snow-caked clothes and laid them out by the fireplace. She started a fire and raked her fingers through her damp hair.

Sleep. That’s what she needed. Then maybe she would stop thinking about him and the way she’d felt when their hands had touched, or the way his eyes lit up when he saw her.

Yes, sleep would most definitely help.


	6. Chapter 6

It wasn’t until a few nights later that Lana realized that Solas couldn’t be avoided anymore. She bit her lip as she slowly gained the courage to knock on his door.

He opened the door soon after she knocked and smiled down at her. _“Lethallan.”_

“I’m sorry if I disturbed you,” she said. “I know it’s late.”

“There is no need to apologize. I am usually up quite late, so I wouldn’t mind doing your lessons now.”

“Oh, um,” she stammered. “I’m not here for lessons, my mark is just acting up again.”

His face fell slightly. “Of course. Please, come in.” 

She nodded and stepped inside, sitting in her usual chair. 

“If you don’t mind,” he said, motioning to his bed. “Could we sit here tonight? My knees are… not what they used to be.” 

Lana paused for a moment. “Sure,” she said.

She crossed over and sat beside him, and he took her hand in his. He unwrapped the cloth from her wrist and cupped her hand. The touch sent a shiver down her spine, and she watched as his magic soothed her mark once more. 

When the mark’s glow had dimmed, his magic faded. But his fingers lingered on hers, the touch making her breath hitch. He ran his thumb down the heel of her palm and brushed across the edge of the _vallas’din_ on her wrist. 

“Did you leave someone behind?” he asked quietly. 

Her cheeks burned and she ripped her hand away. “No,” she said, standing up and quickly wrapping the cloth around her wrist. 

“ _Ir abelas,_ I did not mean to offend,” he said. “I should not have asked.” 

She crossed her arms across her chest. “It’s fine, it’s just… I don’t like talking about it.” 

He nodded. “Then I will not bring it up again.” 

She stared at him for a moment. _“Ma serannas,”_ she said. “For that, and for my hand.”

“As I have said, there is no reason to thank me,” he replied, standing up.

He was so much taller than her, she realized. And so close that she could smell a mixture of herbs and trees – he smelled like home. Her heart was pounding again as his eyes seemed to be tracing her features. He opened his mouth to speak.

“I should probably go,” she blurted. “But… if you are free tomorrow, I’d like to continue our lessons?”

His face relaxed into a soft smile. “Of course. I will meet you tomorrow evening.”

She nodded and left his cabin quickly.

 _Fen’Harel take him,_ she thought angrily as she returned to her own cabin. He was so damn confusing to be around, and she just wanted to…

She closed the door and rested against it. She didn’t really know what she wanted to do. Staying away from him was the better choice, but she wouldn’t be able to until she knew how to manage the mark herself. But even then, she didn’t want to lose the only person who made her not feel quite so alone in a sea of humans. Creators knew Sera didn’t do that. 

One more year. One more year, and she wouldn’t need to worry. She wouldn’t be counting down the days until her supposed soulmate died.

One more year and she would be free.


	7. Chapter 7

Redcliffe village sat on the edge of Lake Calenhad, and seemed to be bustling with trade and travelers. Lana found that she preferred it to the stuffy nature of Val Royeaux, but there were still far too many people. She found herself walking nearly shoulder to shoulder beside Solas, which brought a strange comfort that she didn’t particularly like – especially when he didn’t seem to mind the proximity either.

They made their way to the Gull and Lantern, where they met with Fiona – who had no recollection that they had ever even _met_ in Val Royeaux. Instead, they had given themselves over to a Tevinter magister who seemed eager to broker an agreement with Inquisition.

She didn’t like any part of this. 

And she _especially_ didn’t like the note that his son slipped into her hand when he nearly collapsed in front of her. 

“Come to the Chantry, you’re all in danger,” Lana read as Magister Alexius and his son left. “This could be a trap.” 

“Or a lead,” Varric said. “Worth a look, I’d say.” 

Lana sighed. “Okay, let’s go then.” 

They made their way to the Chantry doors. The mark on Lana’s hand flared up and she hissed. “There’s a rift nearby,” she said, swallowing the pain. “And it’s a strong one, like the one outside the gates.”

Cassandra cracked her neck and readied her sword as they pushed through the doors – and, sure enough, a large rift crackled in the center of the room.

“Good, you’re finally here!” a man said within. “Help me close this, would you?” 

The four of them rushed in to help. They cut through the demons, trying to steer clear of the strange rifts that seemed to slow and hasten their movements. 

Lana moved to get closer to the rift, but was stopped by a terror demon that screeched over her before flinging its long arm at her, knocking her back into one of the strange rifts. Everything around her moved so quickly as she sat up. _It’s not just making the speed of our movements change – it’s altering time itself._ Suddenly Solas was standing above her, reaching for her hand. She had barely lifted her hand to his before he grabbed it and pulled her up and out of the rift. 

A demon screeched in front of them and he shot a blast of magic at it, giving her an opening. She launched herself forward with a fade-step and brought her mark up to the rift. She winced in pain as the magic shot from her palm. She concentrated, the rift quickly sapping her of mana before it finally snapped closed. She stumbled back, clutching her palm. Solas was already at her side, and she waved him away. 

“I’ll be fine in a moment,” she said. 

He opened his mouth to protest before another voice interrupted him. 

“Fascinating!” the man said. He was wearing Tevinter-style clothing and had neatly-kept hair and a mustache. _Tevinter noble, then, like Alexius._ His gray eyes sparkled. “How does that work, exactly?” 

“The short version?” Lana said. “Think of it like a piece of the Fade, stuck in my hand, which magnetizes to the magic in the rift and acts as a key to close it.” 

“A piece of the Fade _inside_ your hand?” he said. “You’ll have to tell me the long version eventually.”

“Perhaps,” Lana said, folding her arms across her chest. “Who are you?” 

“Forgive me, where are my manners?” He bowed slightly. “Dorian of House Pavus, most recently of Minrathous. How do you do?” 

“Careful of this one,” Cassandra said behind her, her hand on the pommel of her sword. 

“Suspicious friends you have here,” Dorian noted. “Magister Alexius, with whom you are now acquainted, was once my mentor. So, my assistance should be valuable – as I am sure you can imagine.” 

“The magister’s son – why isn’t he here?” she asked. 

“Ah, yes. The note was from me. But even without the note, you must already know that there is danger. Let’s start with the fact that Alexius claiming the allegiance of the rebel mages out from under you. As if by magic, yes? Which is exactly right.”

Lana frowned. “Is he… behind the strange magical anomalies near the rifts?” 

“Indeed,” Dorian said. “He distorted time itself to get here before the events at the Conclave, and soon there will be more anomalies like it, and they will appear further and further away from Redcliffe. The magic Alexius is using is wildly unstable, and it’s unraveling the world.”

“You know quite a bit about this,” she said, raising an eyebrow. 

“I do – I helped develop this magic. When I was still his apprentice, it was all pure theory. Alexius could never get it to work. What I don’t understand is _why_ he’s doing this. Tampering time just for a few hundred lackeys?” 

“He didn’t do it for them,” another voice said, and Alexius’ son, Felix, walked into the room. “My father’s joined a cult – Tevinter supremacists. They call themselves ‘Venatori.’ And I can tell you one thing: whatever he’s done to them, he’s done to get to you.”

“Me?” Lana asked. 

“They’re obsessed with you, but I don’t know why. Perhaps because you survived the Temple of Sacred Ashes.” 

“Perhaps it is because you can close the rifts? Maybe there’s a connection? Or they see you as a threat?” Dorian offered. 

“If the Venatori are behind those rifts, or the Breach in the sky, they’re even worse than I thought,” Felix said. 

Lana sighed. “How can I trust you?” 

“I love my father, and I love my country, but what he’s doing is madness,” Felix replied. “For his sake, you have to stop him.”

“It would also be nice if he didn’t rip a hole in time,” Dorian replied. “There’s already a hole in the sky.”

Lana shook her head. “Then that makes our next move quite clear.”

Dorian nodded. “Indeed. I can’t stay in Redcliffe, but I would like to help when you’re ready. I’ll be in touch. And Felix?” Dorian said, turning to his friend. “Try not to get yourself killed.” 

“There are worse things than dying, Dorian,” Felix replied.


	8. Chapter 8

That night, Lana stepped away from the camp to clear her head, her hand still burning from earlier. Time magic, supremacist groups, rebellions – as though she didn’t already have enough on her plate. She sat by the stream near the camp and lowered her hand in the icy cold water. With her other hand, she tried to call the magic that Solas had shown her. She pulled on the small thread that tied her to the Fade, but it barely budged. The magic sputtered at her fingers, but nothing happened. She rested her forehead on her knee and sighed. 

“Allow me.” 

She jumped, ripping her hand out of the water as she saw Solas moving to sit beside her. He offered his hand out to her. She nodded and wiped off her damp hand before holding it out to him. Her eyes glanced up at him as he worked. His brows furrowed the way they always did when he was concentrating, and for the first time, she noticed the sprinkle of freckles across the bridge of his nose. His eyes flicked up to hers, and she felt her heart stutter as if it were waking. She quickly looked down, embarrassed. She kept her eyes trained to his hands, though that wasn’t much better, either.

As his magic faded, he turned his hand away to assess the mark, and Lana caught a glimpse of a burn scar on his upper wrist – where his vallas’din should be. 

“What happened?” Lana asked without thinking. 

Solas followed her gaze and he pulled his hands away from hers. 

“Did they… are they already gone?” she asked. 

“I don’t know,” he replied. “When it appeared, I saw it only once before I decided to remove it. I did not like having such knowledge, or allowing others to see it either.” 

“But… isn’t that impossible?” she asked. 

“It was not a pleasant spell,” Solas said simply.

She ran her thumb across her own vallas’din. 

“I know I told you I would not ask,” he said suddenly before his voice faltered. “ _Ir abelas._ I forget myself.” 

Lana pressed her lips together. “It appeared on my wrist four years ago. My clan always celebrated it whenever anyone’s vallas’din appeared, but mine… I was nowhere close to finding anyone. No one in my clan could possibly be it, and venturing out into the world felt like a waste of time. So I buried myself in my studies, biding my time until five years passed.” 

“You tried to spare yourself from grief, only to remain alone all these years,” he said. “That is not as unfamiliar to me as you might think.” 

She looked out at the water. “Sometimes I wish I hadn’t chosen to be alone, but after watching my father lose my mother – I couldn’t bear to go through that again. We all knew the date. And as the days grew closer and closer, she got sicker and sicker until…” she sighed. “So I’ve been waiting for that date to pass. It’s selfish, I suppose – but the morbidity of knowing the day you will die if the person you are with is truly your soulmate? I couldn’t do that to them.” 

Lana looked at him, and their eyes met. She quickly looked away and stood. “Anyway, I should go.” 

She started to walk away, when – “If you would prefer to remove it, I can help you,” Solas said. 

Hesitating, she looked back at him. “It’s a nice sentiment, but… it doesn’t help when I have it branded in my mind as well.” 

“Even still,” he said. “The constant reminder is enough to drive anyone mad.” 

She turned back. “How badly does it hurt?” 

“Badly,” he replied. 

She bit her lip and looked down at the vallas’din. To be rid of it, once and for all – it would be like a weight lifted from her chest. “Very well,” she said, walking over to him. “Cast your spell.” 

“Sit,” he motioned. “I will attempt to lessen the pain, if I can.”

She nodded and held out her wrist. He reached out with his fingers and cast an ice spell, all but completely numbing the area. He looked up at her. “Are you ready?” 

“Yes.” 

There was pain – blinding pain. For whatever spell he was using was not just burning the skin, but the magic in the vallas’din. It was a pain that almost felt similar to that of the mark on her hand, but worse. She closed her eyes, trying not to scream as he burned off each number. 

And then finally, the burning was replaced with the soothing magic of a healing spell. When she looked finally, he ran his thumb across where the numbers had been. 

“No scar,” she said. 

“I’ve perfected the spell over the years,” he said with a smile. 

She pulled her hand away and traced her fingers across the bare skin. “Thank you, Solas,” she said. “This means so much to me.” She looked up at him and her heart stuttered again. 

Tearing her eyes away, she got up. “Well, good night, then,” she said. As she turned to leave, his hand caught hers. 

He took a step closer, pushing a lock of hair away from her face. “Forgive me if this is too forward, but am I right in assuming that you’ve never been kissed before?” he asked. 

Her cheeks reddened. 

“I will take that as a yes,” he said, cupping her face. 

Her face was burning as he ran his thumb across her cheekbone. “Solas, I can’t,” she said, half whispering. “Not until… not until I know.” 

He gave her a soft smile and kissed her forehead. His lips were soft and warm. She closed her eyes, savoring the feeling. “Very well.”

As he pulled away, she felt her heart clench. She turned away before she could lose her nerve and returned to the camp.


	9. Chapter 9

When they returned to Redcliffe to meet with Alexius, Lana tried desperately not to fidget as they walked through the doors to the main hall at Redcliffe castle. 

“Ah, so good of you to come,” Alexius said as they approached the dais. “I so look forward to working with you on our arrangement. What will the Inquisition offer me in return for the aid of the mages?” 

“Nothing,” Lana replied, crossing her arms. “We’re just going to take the mages and leave.” 

“It is bold of you to assume you have power here,” Alexius said, sitting forward on his throne. “And how do you expect to accomplish that?” 

“She knows everything, father,” Felix said beside him. 

“Felix,” Alexius said, turning his gaze to his son. “What have you done?” 

Alexius stood up and faced Lana, his face hard.

“You walk into my stronghold with your stolen mark, a gift you don’t even understand and think you’re in control?” he said. “You’re nothing but a mistake.”

“If you know so much about it, why don’t you enlighten me?” Lana asked. “Tell me what the mark on my hand is for.”

“It belongs to your betters,” Alexius replied. “You wouldn’t even begin to understand it’s purpose.”

“Father, listen to yourself. Do you know what you sound like?” Felix said. 

“He sounds like the sort of villainous cliché everyone expects us to be,” Dorian said as he entered the room.

Alexius’ eyes snapped to him. “Dorian,” he said. “I gave you a chance to be a part of this – you turned me down. The Elder One has power you would not believe. He will raise the Imperium from its own ashes. Soon, he will become a god. He will make the world bow to the mages once more. We will rule from the Boeric Ocean to the Frozen Seas.”

“You cannot involve my people in this!” Fiona exclaimed.

“Alexius, this is exactly what you and I talked about never wanting to happen. Why would you support this?” Dorian asked.

“Stop it, father,” Felix said. “Give up the Venatori. Let the southern mages fight the Breach, and let’s go home.”

“No, it’s the only way, Felix,” Alexius said, turning to his son. “He can save you.”

“Save me?” Felix frowned.

“There is a way," Alexius said. "The Elder One promised, if I undo the mistake at the temple.” 

“I’m going to die,” Felix said. “You need to accept that.”

“Seize them, Venatori,” Alexius said. “The Elder One demands this woman’s life.”

The Inquisition scouts appeared from behind the pillars around the room and slit the throats of the Venatori guards.

“Your men are dead, Alexius,” Lana replied, stepping forward. “I would give up now, if I were you.” 

He clenched his teeth. “You are a mistake. You never should have _existed._ ”

With that, he lifted a strange amulet, magic humming from it as he began to cast a spell. 

“No!” Dorian shouted, stepping forward in front of Lana as he threw a defensive spell.

Suddenly, a blast of green magic appeared, and the world blinked out of existence. 

***

The crackle of magic hung in the air as Lana sat up in ankle-deep water. She was in some kind of cell, the stone walls around her covered in red lyrium. 

“Oh good, you’re awake,” Dorian said. 

“Where are we?” Lana asked. 

“Interesting, it’s probably not what Alexius intended. The rift must have moved us to, what, the closest complements to arcane energy?”

Lana looked around. “At a guess, I think we’re still in the castle.” 

“Hm. If we’re still in the castle…” Dorian paused. “Of _course,_ it’s not simply where, but _when_! Alexius used the amulet as a focus to move us through time!” 

“So… did he send us forward or back in time, and how far?” 

“Those are excellent questions,” Dorian said. “Let’s find out, shall we?” 

They managed to break out of the cell and made their way through the dungeons. Stumbling into another room with more cells, Lana caught a glimpse of an elven woman in one of the cells. 

_Fiona._

“Fiona,” Lana said, jogging over to the cell. “You’re here.” 

Fiona turned her gaze on Lana. Her eyes were glowing red, and Lana realized all at once that she was encased in red lyrium. 

“You – you’re alive,” Fiona rasped. “But we saw you disappear through the rift.” 

“It seems Alexius displaced us in time,” Dorian said. “What is the date today?” 

“The seventh of Harvestmere, 9:42 Dragon,” Fiona managed. 

Lana stilled. 

The date. It was _today._ She swallowed hard. 

“9.42? Then we’ve lost an entire _year_ ,” Dorian said. “We must find Alexius and see if there is a way to reverse the spell. Do you know where he is?” 

“He is in the throne room,” Fiona replied. “He does not leave.” 

“I see,” Dorian said. “Well, then. We should go pay my mentor a _visit._ ” He smirked as he looked at Lana, who was staring off into space. “Is something wrong? Aside from everything, I suppose.” 

“It’s… it’s nothing,” Lana replied. “Let’s just go.” 

He nodded. 

“You must go,” Fiona said. “Ensure that none of this ever comes to pass.” 

“We will,” Dorian said. “Come along, Lady Herald.” 

“Lana,” she said. “Just call me Lana.” 

Dorian inclined his head. “Of course.”

“Do you think the others might still be here?” Lana asked. “I can’t imagine Alexius just let them leave. Fiona is still here, and alive. Maybe… maybe they are, too.”

“We can look,” Dorian replied. “We will need all the help we can get.” 

They made their way through the dungeons, checking other rooms with cells. Until finally, they stumbled upon a room with two occupied cells. 

Cassandra was sitting down, staring off as she recited an Andrastian prayer. Her eyes looked up to see Lana and Dorian. 

“You! But… how?” 

“Time displacement,” Dorian said as Lana used the key they had found to unlock the cell. “We will be searching for a way back, but we must get to Alexius.”

Lana looked at the other cell and she saw Solas standing by the bars of the cell. She quickly crossed over to the door and unlocked it. Their eyes met. He looked… sick. Sick, as Cassandra was, and Fiona. Red lyrium poisoning, she imagined. 

“You’re alive,” he breathed, relief flooding his hollowed features. “I… we thought you died.”

“We are very much alive,” Dorian said beside her. “The spell Alexius cast displaced us in time. We just arrived a moment ago, so to speak.” 

“Can you reverse the process?” Solas asked. “You could return and obviate the events of the last year. It may not be too late.” 

“That is the plan,” Dorian replied. “But we must get to the throne room, and quickly. I don’t particularly want to stay here any longer than necessary.” 

“You’re sick,” Lana said. 

“I am dying, but it is no matter,” Solas said. “Once the spell is reversed, none of this will have come to pass.”

“We can’t do this without you,” she said, her voice wavering. 

“If there is any hope, any way to save them – my life is yours,” he said, his voice low as he looked down at her. His eyes were softer than she remembered, though she supposed it was his weakened state that caused him to look at her that way. 

Lana crossed the distance between them and wrapped her arms around him. The red lyrium was emanated from his skin, but she didn’t care. He returned the embrace in kind, kissing the top of her head.

She pulled away, remembering herself finally. “Let’s go.” 

They moved through the castle as Solas and Cassandra explained what they had missed over the past year. The assassination of Empress Celene of Orlais, a person named The Elder One who reigned over Thedas, an army of demons – it was too much. Lana tried not to think about it as they fought their way past Tevinter guards who were littered across the castle. 

And she tried desperately not to think about the _vallas’din_. Even burned off of her skin, it did not change the day – nor did it change the ever-present reminder that Solas was dying. 

She had been so, so foolish. And now – now, unless they were able to return, she would never forgive herself for trying to deny what she felt for him. She had tried so hard to guard herself from this grief, but in doing so she had made it worse than she had feared.

When they reached the courtyard, Lana cried out in pain. There were rifts _everywhere_ – and the Breach had spread all the way across the sky. She clutched her palm as the mark crackled awake, burning her skin worse than it ever had before. 

“Lana, are you alright?” Dorian said. 

“It is the mark,” Solas said, stepping beside her. He took her hand in his, and his eyes saddened. “I do not think I can make it better – my magic would likely taint you.”

“I’ll be fine _,_ ” she said. “Let’s just get through this. I can take care of it when I get back.”

Dorian nodded. “Then let’s go.” 

They fought their way past rift after rift, demon after demon, until they made it to one of the torture chambers, where they found Leliana being held. They quickly released her.

Leliana was far different than Lana remembered her. Dorian attempted to get answers out of her as they ventured through the castle, but she only gave him snappy, one-word responses. 

They finally made it to the main hall in front of the throne room. Lana’s exhaustion with the rifts left her nearly drained of mana as they found small shards that acted as the keys to the doors of the throne room. 

As they swung open, they saw Alexius standing in front of the fireplace, faced away from them with his hands folded behind his back.

“I knew you would come,” he said, hanging his head. 

Alexius’ son sat beside the throne, his eyes faded as he stared off into space. He looked like a husk. 

“Is that… Felix,” Dorian said. “Alexius, what have you done?” 

“I _saved_ him,” Alexius said. “The Elder One, he… he had the power to keep him from dying.” 

“And you call that living?” Lana asked. 

Alexius said nothing. 

Suddenly Leliana was behind Felix. She pulled him up to a standing position and held a knife to his throat. 

“Stop, please!” Alexius said, holding his hand out to her. 

“Give us the amulet and he won’t come to any harm,” Lana said. 

“I’ll give you anything you want,” Alexius said, nearly in tears. 

“I want the world back,” Leliana said, and she slit Felix’s throat. Lana paled. 

“No!” Alexius shouted as his son collapsed to the ground. His expression was furious. “You will _pay_ for what you have done.” 

The magister flung a spell at Lana, and with much more effort than she usually required, she shielded herself, her magic barely absorbing the damage. Alexius fade-stepped toward her, and Cassandra swung her sword. He blocked with his staff, but could not evade the blast of fire that Dorian flung at him. Alexius transported himself to the other side of the room and cast a spell that opened a rift overhead. Lana felt like she was being choked by the pain. But she shoved her palm in the air, the magic of the mark connecting with the rift. She felt like her hand was going to burn off. Demons materialized in the room, and her companions fought them away from her as it finally closed.

Suddenly, Alexius appeared behind her, brandishing a dagger. He flung the blade at her, but before she realized what was happening she was being shoved away as Alexius’ dagger plunged into Solas’ chest. Rage erupted through her and with every bit of magic she had, she cast a shard of ice that shot into Alexius, throwing him back against a stone pillar. He sank against it and sighed as the life left him.

Lana fell to her knees beside Solas, who was bleeding out. She tried to conjure her healing magic, but she was almost entirely depleted. Solas took her hand. 

“Do not waste your energy,” he said.

“I can’t just watch you die,” she said, tears pooling in her eyes. “Not… not today.” 

“Appropriate day to die, I suppose.” 

“Is that meant to be a joke?” 

He gave her a weak smile. “ _Ir abelas,_ that was in poor taste.”

She tried to speak, but the words died at her lips. He reached up and touched her face, running his thumb across her cheekbone before he breathed his last.

He was gone.

“Lana,” Dorian said, touching her shoulder. “We must leave. Once we are gone, this will have never happened.” 

But it did happen. He was dead, here in her arms. Her mind was spinning until Cassandra kneeled down in front of her.

“Go,” Cassandra said. “You need to stop this from happening.” 

Lana swallowed and nodded as she stood up and followed after Dorian, who was already working the spell. There was a shriek in the distance.

“They are coming,” Leliana said. 

“Give me an hour and I will have the spell ready,” Dorian said.

“An _hour_ ?” Leliana exclaimed. “You must go _now!_ ” 

Dorian sighed. “This sort of magic takes _time.”_

Leliana drew her bow. “You will have much time as I have arrows.”

Dorian worked the spell as Lana watched Leliana stand ready, her bow drawn. Cassandra stood at her side, holding her shield at the ready. There was a slam at the door that echoed through the hall.

The doors burst open and demons flooded the room. Lana watched as Cassandra disappeared in the sea of them. A terror demon grabbed Leliana, and her blue eyes locked on to Lana. Lana took a step forward. 

“You move and we all die,” Dorian said. 

The portal opened in front of them, and Dorian pulled them through. Lana stepped back into the throne room of her time, her eyes burning as they landed on Alexius. 

_“You,”_ she spat with venom as she grabbed the knife at her hip and lunged for him. Dorian pulled her back. 

“You’ll have to do better than that,” Dorian said, still holding Lana in place. 

Alexius’ shoulders slumped in defeat. The Inquisition soldiers took Alexius away and Lana tried to steady herself.

Her eyes searched the room until they landed on Solas, who was still standing by Cassandra as he had been before. Their eyes met, and before she could think, she was crossing the space between them and wrapping her arms around him. He was still at first before she felt his arms curl tightly around her. 

The front doors to the throne room opened, and Lana pulled herself away from him as soldiers marched into the room, separating as Queen Anora Mac Tir stepped into view. 

“Fiona,” the queen said. “You and your mages have seen fit to abuse your welcome here. You are no longer welcome in Redcliffe, and are hereby banished from these lands.” 

“Queen Anora,” Fiona said, “we have nowhere left to go.” 

“If you don’t mind, your grace,” Lana said, stepping beside Fiona, “the Inquisition is in need of these mages. Let them come with us.”

“Are we to be allies, or prisoners?” Fiona asked warily. 

“Allies,” Lana replied. “Together, we will close the Breach once and for all.”

“Very well,” Queen Anora replied, “but on your head be it.”


	10. Chapter 10

Lana was quiet as they made the journey back to Haven. She had written and sent the report of what happened with the scouts, but neither she, nor Dorian, spoke much about what had happened. 

When they returned to Haven, Lana retreated to her cabin away from everyone else. She needed time to collect herself, her thoughts.

To let the truth settle within her.

The walls of her cabin felt so small. In her restlessness, she wrapped herself in a fur-lined winter coat and stepped out into the cold, hoping to find some semblance of comfort in the quiet of the snow-covered forest. 

The light from the twin moons cast a silvery glow across the open field just beyond the gates. The druffalo that normally roamed there had disappeared, leaving the field a smooth blanket of white. Lana walked over to a large boulder to the side of the field and leaned against it. She closed her eyes, listening to the rustle of the trees in the faint breeze. 

The crunch of footsteps in the snow gave her pause. As they neared she sucked in a breath and turned to see Solas walking toward her. He slowed. 

“What are you doing out here, _lethallan_?” 

“I just needed to clear my mind,” she said. 

“Do you mind if I join you?” 

She hesitated for a moment before, “No, I don’t mind.” 

He leaned against the boulder beside her, and the mere closeness to him made her heart thunder in her chest. 

“How is your hand?” he asked. 

“It’s fine for now,” she said. 

“The way it was before, when you returned,” he said, “it was worse than it had been when the Breach first formed.”

She bit her lip.

“May I ask what happened when you went through the rift?” he asked. 

She was silent for a moment, and he waited as she formed the words in her mind. “We went forward in time. We saw a world that was torn up by demons and rifts – some person named The Elder One had taken control of everything. It was… horrible.” 

“How far into the future?” he asked. 

“A year,” she said. “Exactly a year from yesterday. The seventh of Harvestmere, 9:42 Dragon.” 

It didn’t take long for her to see the pieces click into place in his mind. “I see. And… what happened?” 

“The Breach had swallowed the world, demons had taken over everything and were led by the Elder One Alexius spoke of. And,” she paused for a moment, “you died.”

He became very quiet.

She pushed herself off the boulder and crossed her arms as she faced him. “You kept acting like none of it was real – but it was. You were as real to me then as you are now.”

There was a sort of sympathy, or perhaps sadness, that lingered behind his gaze. He slowly straightened and took a single step to close the distance between them. He cupped her cheek, his thumb wiping away a tear she hadn’t realized she’d shed. 

“Do you think…” she started to say, but then stopped herself.

“Do I think…?” he echoed. 

She couldn’t look at him as she asked, “Do you think that you are… that we…” _Creators, I can’t even get it out._

He was quiet as he looked up at the Breach in the sky for a moment. “Personally, I have never believed in such a thing as fate. It is why I decided to remove the _vallas’din_.” He looked back down at her. “But if there is such a thing as fate, it has poor timing.”

Her heart raced as he ran his fingers delicately across her cheekbone. “Permit me?”

She nodded, and he leaned forward, pressing his lips against hers. Soft, inviting, safe. Terrifying, and thrilling. His lips opened and she tried to follow his lead as his tongue slipped into her mouth. His hands touched her waist, guiding her closer to him. She couldn’t think as she wrapped her arms around his neck, experimenting as she flicked her own tongue past his lips. He wrapped his arms around her fully, deepening the kiss in response. Her heart was thundering inside her chest, and it was as if time itself had completely disappeared. When they finally slowed, she felt like the breath had all but entirely left her lungs. He brushed her cheek with his knuckles as he pulled away. 

She stared up at him, stunned.

“What is it?” he asked. 

“Nothing, it’s just… I’d always imagined what that might be like but I didn’t expect it to feel so,” she paused, searching for the right word, “intoxicating.”

He chuckled, kissing her forehead. “Come, we should leave before you freeze to death.”

Her mouth spread into a wide grin. He took her hand in his and kissed her knuckles before they walked back to her cabin. As he brought her to her door, he bent down to kiss her temple. 

“Rest,” he said. “You will need all your strength tomorrow.”

“I will,” she said as she opened her door. She watched him walk away, her heart filling and shattering. Joy and grief, blending into one complex emotion – one she couldn’t yet name.

She rubbed her face and removed her coat, hanging it up as she stripped down to her tunic and leggings. As she did, something caught her eye. She pulled the sleeve down on her right arm and stared in shock as elegant writing was scrawled across her wrist. It was in… elvish. Actual, written elvish. _But this isn’t… it couldn’t be._ She’d never heard of anyone else getting _vallas’din_ on both wrists. Unless – 

She blinked. 

The time travel. The _time_ travel. He had died, and now… and now there had been two timelines. Two timelines, two different deaths. Yet this time – she couldn’t even read it. She wasn’t sure if that was just another curse, or a blessing.

But no matter how long they had, she would cherish every moment of it. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!! 
> 
> Elven language credit (for non-canonical words) goes to the Project Elvhen works by FenxShiral ❤


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